


"Are You There? It's Me. John."

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic [44]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ascension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode: s03e14 Tao of Rodney, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6261352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ Comment Fic for “What If?” Scenarios prompt: <i>Stargate Atlantis: John Sheppard + Rodney McKay. Rodney did Ascend during The Tao of Rodney</i></p>
<p>In which John has a hard time letting go, but then so does Rodney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Are You There? It's Me. John."

“I hate diplomatic missions,” John grumbled. He sat on the bed and pulled off his boots. “Too much standing around and talking, and trying not to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face and wondered if he should shower and get some shut eye, or just lay down fully clothed since he was already on the bed. Six of one, half a dozen of another. It’s not like he’d gotten dirty listening to Teyla verbally spar with the head honcho of the settlement on M77-87R.

“They didn’t even have any good food. You probably would’ve liked it, though.”

John decided to shower first. On the way to the bathroom he ghosted his fingers over the picture frame on the stand beside the bed. It held a candid shot of the team goofing around for whoever’d had the camera. John might not remember the photographer, but he distinctly recalled the squeaking sound of protest Rodney had made when Ronon picked him up off his feet, and Teyla’s tinkling laugh. They’d all been smiling. Happy. It had been a good moment, one he was glad to have a visual memory of.

Things weren’t the same, with Rodney gone.

*o*o*o*

“You missed one hell of a party, buddy,” John said as he stumbled into his room. He flopped down on his bed, arms hanging off the sides, and blinked slowly up at the ceiling. His lips were numb. “That ruus wine is the devil’s drink.”

He should know, he’d had plenty of it. The party was ostensibly for everyone with a May birthday, but it had turned into a kind of memorial roast for Rodney. Nothing like the more sedate affair they’d had shortly after Rodney Ascended.

“You’d have liked this one a lot more.” John closed his eyes and forgot to open them back up again. “Everyone misses you.”

Not John, though. He was a soldier. Sometimes good men died, and in a warzone you just had to note the loss and move on. He’d learned that lesson enough times. So what if he sometimes felt like talking to himself? Nothing wrong with that. He certainly didn’t miss Rodney whining on missions, or his super-sized ego, or the way he’d smile when he was genuinely happy.

“Asshole,” John muttered right before he fell asleep.

*o*o*o*

John sprawled out in the chair, making himself look as relaxed as possible. If only he could unclench his jaw, which was really starting to hurt.

“It’s okay to grieve,” Dr. Heightmeyer said. “It’s a step in the process that allows us to deal with a loss and move forward. How you do that is up to you.”

It was his own fault. He’d gotten so use to talking to Rodney in private that he'd slipped up during a staff meeting. Elizabeth had been sympathetic, but insisted he meet with the base psychologist all the same. Ronon had offered to run with him until he was too tired to think; that probably would’ve been the better option.

“Are you worried that you can’t show your feelings because of your leadership role?”

John shrugged. He had to give her something, just to show he was listening.

“Colonel, you lost a teammate and a friend. I don’t think anyone would think less of you to see you hurting.”

Rodney was a bastard. John hated him. And missed him. Heightmeyer would tell him it was normal to feel anger, but it made him sick. He knew Rodney hadn’t had a choice. It had been ascend or die, and it was kind of nice to know that his soul or his essence, or whatever, was living on somewhere. Anyway, Rodney didn’t bear the full brunt of John’s ire. John was the one who hadn’t been able to help him meditate properly. He’d been in denial pretty much the whole time.

_I hope you’re happy_ , he thought at Rodney. He wasn’t sure how he meant it.

*o*o*o*

“Screwed up this time,” John slurred. He was lying on the floor, aching and bloody. He could barely see out of his left eye, and the right one was closed up entirely. Broken ribs, broken fingers…not his best day.

Fucking Genii. They never gave up.

“You there? It’s me. John.” He’d never been much of a religious man. Growing up, church had been for show, because that’s what respectable businessmen did on Sundays. But now that Rodney was Ascended, it was almost like he was talking to a higher power. One with a citrus allergy and a snappish attitude.

“I know you hate it. When I get myself into these situations.” John had to take shallow breaths to keep the pain from his broken ribs to a minimum. “Just wanted to say. Sorry.”

He knew if he died there, that was it for him. No ascension, no hanging out with Rodney on another plane of existence and commiserating with him on what dicks the Ancients were. If he died, he’d just be dead. Gone. Fade to black. He was actually pretty okay with that. Life had lost a lot of pleasure for him after Rodney was gone.

“Never told you. How much. I liked you. Sorry for that. Too.”

John was sorry for a lot of things: missed opportunities, harsh words he couldn’t take back, kind words he never shared. He should’ve told Rodney how he really felt, after that whole brain-sharing incident when Rodney/Cadman had kissed Carson and John had burned with envy. Life in Pegasus was too short to waste time worrying about all the ways something could go wrong. He should’ve focused on all the ways they could’ve gone right. He shouldn’t have wasted the little time they’d had together.

“Are you there? Rodney?” John murmured. He gave up trying to keep his eye open; it wasn’t like he had much of a view from the floor anyway. He drifted for a little while, on pain and exhaustion, and then flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m here.”

John cracked his eye open, saw only a pair of pale, naked knees. “Rodney?”

“It’s okay. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“’kay.” John felt Rodney’s hand on his cheek, and then on his forehead. And then everything faded to black, just like he knew it would.

*o*o*o*

John woke up in the infirmary. He could tell it was late, because all the lights were dimmed and the place was quiet, not a soul in sight, and so he took a moment to do a self-evaluation. No broken bones, vision normal, breathing normal. Either he’d been Carson’s guest for quite a while, or…

He put his hand over his eyes, chest heaving just once as he remembered Rodney being there at what he'd thought was the end. Rodney’s warm hand on his head, like a benediction. Had Rodney healed John, like he’d done for Radek? John missed him. He missed him so damn much, and he’d been so out of it he’d let another chance slip by. His last chance.

“I’m still here.”

John froze. That sounded a hell of a lot like Rodney. But it couldn’t be, because he was Ascended. He was gone.

He was standing next to the bed wearing aqua blue scrubs and eating half a turkey sandwich.

“You have no idea how much I missed food. What the hell good is having ultimate knowledge of the universe if you can’t celebrate with pizza?” Rodney pushed at John’s legs until he shifted them and made room for Rodney to sit down. “Plus there’s no-one to lord it over. All glowy with no food and no bragging rights? Definitely not Heaven.”

John just stared. It had to be a dream. He’d probably just woken up from a coma and was hallucinating. That didn’t stop the warmth that moved through him just hearing Rodney’s voice.

“Are you okay?” Rodney reached over and put his free hand on John’s forehead. “I’m sure I did it right, but you look like you’re on Thorazine or something.”

Hallucination or not, John wasn’t wasting any more chances. He grabbed hold of the front of Rodney’s scrubs and pulled him down, kissed him like he’d never kissed anyone before. By God, he was going to make it good.

When they finally broke for air, Rodney’s lips were red and swollen, and his face was flushed. “Wow,” he said, and grinned.

“Can you stay?” John asked, afraid of the answer.

“They kicked me out,” Rodney said. He looked forlornly at the remains of the sandwich, crushed in his hand. “Like I was going to let you die in some backwater jail cell. Idiots. It’s like they know everything but understand nothing.”

John wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so happy, or so hopeful. He reeled Rodney in for another kiss and then kept him there, sprawled half on the bed and half on John, heedless of the mayonnaise stains.

Later they would talk about Ascension, and how Rodney had heard every time John talked to him, and how everyone had freaked out when Rodney and John appeared in the Gate room, stark naked. John just wanted to revel in the moment, in the feel of Rodney in his arms, and the taste of Rodney on his lips.

Life in Pegasus could be short. He wasn’t wasting another second of it.


End file.
